


When You Wear a Highblood's Clothes

by whittler_of_words



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human/Troll Society, Blood, Dehumanization, Detrollization, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, In which Gamzee is a good moirail, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Mind Rape, More Additional Tags to Be Added as the story continues, Partial Mind Control, Slavery, because im gonna write an au where this pairing actually WORKS Goddammit, in which kk doesn't curse for over 7000 words, inspired by that one picture from yummytomatoes, lots of trigger warnings, mental manipulation, no actual on-stage non-con, or would that be, that's just wrong man, this is gonna be painful guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-05
Updated: 2014-01-20
Packaged: 2017-12-31 15:19:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1033234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whittler_of_words/pseuds/whittler_of_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are the kingdom's pet.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. When You Are Broken

**Author's Note:**

> trigger warnings for this chapter:
> 
> Implied/Referenced: NonCon/Rape, violence, abuse, and torture. If you see anything else I should tag/tw let me know please. Trigger warnings at the beginning of every chapter that needs one!
> 
> You can see the drawing that inspired this [here](http://yummytomatoes.tumblr.com/post/18237536595).
> 
>  
> 
> (short first chapter, sorry)

You don't know how long it's been.

You're sure it's been perigrees – sweeps, since you've last been free of the heavy gold collar that rubs your neck raw, of the bright tinkling of pure yellow chains. Your ears are pierced with a Highblood's jewelery, and when they are not being ripped off of you, discarded by rough hands, you wear a Highblood's clothes. It is to mock you, you know.

When you are not being used, by anyone and everyone, you are being led through the streets, carefully placed wounds over scars just barely healed dripping mutant candy red onto the streets as the people jeer from their windows, from the alleyways, always pulling and kicking and touching.

Your name is Karkat Vantas, and you are the kingdom's pet.

If you try, you think you can remember the days of your wrigglerhood, before you got caught. When your very being was comprised of vitriol; acid and wit always ready on your tongue.

You were stubborn,

(they didn't like it when you were stubborn)

you always fought back,

(they didn't like it when you fought back)

and you were like something born from hate.

Hate. Hate, they didn't like at all. You learned all of this soon enough.

They liked (like) you soft. They like you submissive, subservient, compliant. They like you docile, a meowbeast to pet and abuse as they please.

Oh, yes. You learned it, surely. You learned, when they began to come for you, some of them alone, some of them in groups, that they didn't like it when you spit and cursed. They showed no mercy in teaching you this, when they cut at you and put you back together in a way that left you able to speak, but only just; white-hot pain searing itself across your throat with every sound you make. When they took away your words, they made you feel more like an object for them to use than their unwanted touches ever did.

She comes for you too, sometimes. You can feel Her inside your thinkpan when She wishes for the touch of skin, and you know with a clarity that is not yours that She _wants_ you to be aware, to know _exactly_ what She's doing when She invades your thoughts. And after sweeps and sweeps, you can no longer be certain that it's solely because of Her influence that you feel a rush of pleasure when she whispers, “Good boy.”

Your name isn't important anymore. And you are broken.

Perhaps more than even you realize.


	2. When You Are Found

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No triggers for this chapter, i believe!

This isn't unusual. They've left you here before, in this small pitch-black cell of a room, for days on end. You're painfully familiar with the way that specific rocks can be pulled out of the wall, allowing sunlight to filter through and leave only just enough space to huddle in a corner, unable to sleep for fear of a limb being burned by the sun.

This isn't...quite the same, though. You don't think you've ever been in here so long at one time, even though you know your sense of time must be off now that you don't have anything to measure it by. No terrifying cycle of light and dark. No visitors out to seek their pleasure. Not a single use of the food port in the heavy metal door.

You rack your brain, trying to figure out what you might have done wrong. But there's nothing. Nothing that you can think of that would have warranted a punishment like this.

It's almost like they've forgotten you.

The thought is something like that Blue-Blood guard's boot to your gut. You knew it would happen eventually; your novelty would wear off, or they would find something new to play with. But that doesn't make it any easier to stomach, knowing that you're probably being left in here to rot.

Time passes. You're not sure how much. Whenever you blink awake from sleep, it's impossible to tell if you've been unconscious for only seconds, or hours, or days. You try not to move, to conserve what little energy you have left, and you very specifically do not think on whether or not this is an act of defiance. Even your sensitive eyes can't see anything in this oppressive darkness, and the silence is thick and heavy in the air, pinning you against the wall slick with damp and making it difficult to breathe.

Which makes it all the more obvious when the door suddenly rattles.

If you strain, you think you can hear voices.

“It's locked!”

“What did you expect, Egbert, all the doors to be open, ready, and waiting for your usurping ass? We need to move.”

“But Dave, what if there are people down here!”

“Do you think that maybe that's exactly what I'm worried ab-”

You try to shift to get closer and hear them better, and the sound of a loose rock being propelled to the other side of the small room by your foot is echoed by a sudden silence.

“...I think there's someone in there!”

“John.”

“Hmm, what if I-”

“John what-”

The door shudders as something heavy slams against it's frame, and you scramble back as far from it as you can just in time for it to slam open on groaning hinges. The light that floods the room has you blinded in seconds, and you throw your arm up against the light. Underneath it you can see two pairs of legs, two pairs of shoes.

“Oh god.” The one on the left chokes out the words, his voice ridden with horror and... guilt? He takes a step forward and then stops, and when you squint against the light you see it's because the one on your right is holding out an arm. When he crouches down, you see he has a sword gripped in his right hand, and when he catches you eyeing it he places it slowly on the ground. Then,

“You look like shit.”

It wasn't a question or an order, so you don't respond. The light is much more manageable now, enough that you can make out pale hair and skin under dark glasses. A human, then. A quick glance at the other one tells you that he's much the same, except instead of being dressed in red he's dressed in blue, and his hair is dark.

“Are you okay?” the one in blue asks, a concerned look on his face, and you wait for the other one to reply.

“He's obviously fine Egbert,” the one in red says, and you realize with a start that the blue one was asking _you_. Why would he do that? “He's just cut to shit and been down here for who knows how long. Any more stupid questions?” Whatever the blue human was about to say is cut off when the red human turns back to you. “ _Are_ you alright, though? Any life-threatening injuries that'll have you keeling over on me in the next couple hours?” You're taken aback by this question for a moment. Why would he need to be worried enough to ask you a question like that? Whatever his motives, you remind yourself, it's not your place to question it.

You shake your head in the negative before he can get impatient. You don't miss how his shoulders relax slightly. He nods. “Cool. You think you're up to walking for a while?” Honestly? You're not sure, but obviously he wants to take you somewhere, so you begin to attempt to get to your feet.

Every movement aches from lack of activity, and your legs only just shakily hold your weight, but you manage. The red human also stands up, the sword back in his grip, and backs out of the entrance to the cell. You take two steps before you begin to sway. You feel your center of gravity shift past the point of no return, and you anticipate the feeling of your face hitting the floor.

Instead, you find yourself being supported by a pair of arms.

“Woah, there!” The blue human says, and he shifts one of your arms so it's around his shoulders. You try to take as much of your own weight as you can, but you don't think it makes much of a difference, and the blue human helps you stumble out of the cell. You think that most trolls would be protesting right about now, but if the human wants to play moirails, then who are you to stop him? The red human just nods once when he sees you, and leads the ascent to the main halls.

It's quiet, when you get up there. Besides for the scuffing of their shoes and your dragging feet, it's eerily silent. Every sound echoes, and the sun that filters in through high windows serves to highlight slowly spinning specks of dust floating in the air. You don't pass a single person in the halls. The question of wondering where everyone is burns in your throat, but you know better than to ask. If they want to tell you, they will.

They lead you out, past the town below the stone fortress. It's the same as it was inside; not a single troll in sight. The two humans don't say a single word as they take you past the borders, and by that time the blue human is supporting almost all of your weight, but he walks like you weigh nothing. You can practically feel the two humans exchanging glances over your bowed head, and you keep your gaze fixed firmly on the ground. It's none of your business.

You hang on for as long as you can, but after an hour of walking you've forced yourself to the point where it's impossible to keep your eyes open. You lose consciousness.

///

When you come to, the first thing that registers is that you’re lying on your back. Wherever you are it’s dark, just enough to be comfortable but still with a decent amount of light. Looking straight up, your shelter proves to be provided by a tan-white fabric. Are you in a tent?

“You’re up!” You turn your head to the direction of the voice, and see the blue human. From the way he’s settled on the chair, he must have been there a while. Watching you sleep, maybe? But you don’t ache anywhere, which means that he must’ve kept anyone from touching you while you were asleep. He’s really going far with this pretend-pale thing, then.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “Can you sit up?” You manage to swing your legs over what you now realize is a human bed, and slowly raise yourself up into a sitting position. You don’t feel as bad as before, although the hunger that squeezes your gut is still there.

“Good,” he says, smiling. So you passed his first test. He motions to another chair by your bed, where there’s a small pile of folded fabric. “We didn’t know if they’d fit you or not but we got you some clothes! You can come out whenever you like.” He smiles at you again, and then leaves.

You are completely, utterly confused.

This must be another test, you think. To see your competence at following orders. He didn’t give you an official one, but he didn’t hint at any of his own wishes for what you should do, either. Which means only one thing.

You wait.

The shadows grow to measure the passing of only half an hour before the blue human pops his head back in again. When he sees you haven’t moved, the rest of his body follows his head inside the tent. 

“Dude, are you okay?” he asks. “Why didn’t-” He’s cut off by the sound of another voice, and you recognize the sound of the red human.

“Egbert, there you are, I’ve been looking all over the place for you.” The red human pushes the opening of the tent aside and walks in. “Looks like sleeping beauty is finally awake.” He must finally notice the look on the blue human’s face, because he asks, “What’s up?”

“I told him he could change and come out but he hasn’t moved,” the blue human says. “It’s been like, forever! Is he still hurt?”

“John,” the red human says. “What were your exact words?”

“Uhh. I said ‘We didn’t know what would fit you so we got some clothes.’ And ‘You can come out whenever you want.’ Or something like that?” The red human sighs.

“John,” the red human says again. “He was a slave under the CondBitch. He’s not going to just start doing things because he wants to.” 

“But-”

“I would ask you your name but you would probably say something like ‘whatever you want it to be’ or something equally as shitty,” the red human says, interrupting the blue human before he can finish speaking and turning to talk to you directly. He points to the clothes on the chair. “Change into those. We’ll wait for you outside. Come out when you’re done. Understood?” You nod. He grabs the blue human by the collar of his shirt and drags him outside the tent. You look at the clothes where they lay folded.

Finally. Orders you can work with.

The clothes are plain, but clean. Brand new, you might think if you didn’t know better. That can only mean they’re going to bleed you in front of everyone - your blood always does stand out better against cleaner clothes. You change as fast as you can, trying to hurry so the humans don’t have to wait.

When you exit the tent, the sun lower in the sky since the last time you saw it but still not yet close to evening, the humans are ready for you.

“Come on,” the red human says, and begins to walk.

There are a handful of tents that you can see as he leads you between them, but there’s nobody in sight. When the blue human catches you looking around you, he decides to speak up.

“Everybody else is out scouting and stuff,” he says. “They should be back soon!” 

You pass by another two tents before the red human stops in front of one. “I hope you’re decent,” he says loudly, before nodding his head as permission for you to follow him. The blue human steps inside beside you.

A human girl wearing a black-and-purple striped bodice over a gray shirt and a purple skirt with a gold rope belt tied around her waist sits in a chair with a book in her hands. Her gaze flits over you before it comes to rest on the red human.

“Alas, brother,” she says. “You have burst in on me in the most obscene of positions. However shall I live now that you have seen me in such revealing pose?”

“You’ll find a way,” he says. “Can you spare a second?”

“I think that can be arranged.” She stands and closes her book, placing it where she had been sitting. “How may I lend my services to you this afternoon?”

“First off we need to find a way to get that God-awful collar off of him,” he says, jerking his head in your direction and pointing at you with a thumb, and you blink. “And then we need you to help us get him out of slave mode.”

The purple human’s gaze finally rests on you, solid and level. You look down at her feet, not meeting her eyes so as not to seem defiant. She “Hm”s, and then walks closer. She taps a nail against the collar around your neck.

“It would appear to be gold, which should be relatively easy to remove because of it’s malleability. This, however, appears to be reinforced with something incredibly strong.”

“No shit,” the red human says. “You could have just asked us that. We tried taking it off while he was asleep but no luck.”

You can feel her gaze burning into you. You keep your eyes down.

“Has he told you his name?”

“Figured I wouldn’t like the answer so I didn’t ask.”

“I see.” You see her draw a black-and-gray swirled wand from somewhere in one hand the tip wickedly sharp. “I’m going to need you to stay very still,” she says. “I’m not going to hurt you. Can you do that?” You nod once. 

There’s a soft glow of lavender light and then a small warmth against your neck through the collar, and it feels like the weight sits differently on your shoulders.

“I believe you should be able to take it off now.” You can’t stop yourself from looking up at her then, and she smiles slightly.

“Go on, man,” the red human says.

“Yeah, it’s okay!” All three of them seem to be in agreement, but still… Very hesitantly, you reach up to the collar, and begin to pull it off.

You hiss in pain as it slides against skin that’s been rubbed raw, and you feel a few spots begin to bleed open as the collar comes off. You hold it in your hands, unsure what to do with it.

“Oh,” the purple human says, sounding surprised but calm. “He’s off-spectrum.”

“That explains that, I guess.” The red human takes the collar from your hands, a disgusted look on his face. “You won’t mind if I dice this up into little pieces and burn it, do you? Of course you don’t.” He doesn’t do quite that; instead, he settles for throwing it into a waste receptacle across the room before turning back to the purple human. “And what about the other part?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. Instead, she rests a hand softly on your shoulder. “Would you follow me, please?” You nod, and she guides you to a bed against the wall. You sit down when she motions for you to, and she pulls forward the chair she was sitting on before reaching under the bed and bringing out a box. She takes out a bottle filled with clear liquid, a rag, and gauze before opening the bottle and pouring a decent amount onto the rag. It reeks of medicinal alcohol. It stings when she dabs it lightly against your neck, but you don’t flinch or pull away. She wraps the gauze carefully around your neck and ties it off, looking at you when she’s finished for a long moment before she speaks.

“So far he’s shown no self-preservation instincts that even some of the most damaged trolls would exhibit. He didn’t even bat an eye when I used an obviously dangerous object on him.” Her voice is slow and careful as she continues. “...We can try. But I’m afraid there may be nothing we can do for him now.”

“Are you sure you should be talking about him like this when he’s…” The purple human's gaze trails over from the blue human back to you again.

“I doubt he cares, John.” There’s silence for a long moment.

“How about this,” the red human says suddenly. “You,” you look up when he addresses you. “Tell us your name. And don’t give me any ‘whatever you wish’ crap, either. The one you grew up with.”

If that’s what he wants, then that's what you'll give him.

You open your mouth to answer when a voice, breathless, sounds at the mouth of the tent. 

“KK?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so here's how this universe works:
> 
> Human/troll earth. yep. 
> 
> and about the sun thing. The sun is weak enough that trolls and humans can walk around outside without being burned to a crisp, but if exposed for more than a couple hours at a time it's basically this really bad sun-burn that's incredibly painful to trolls and can become infected and get all sicknasty if left untreated.
> 
> More info to be revealed as the story continues >:3


	3. When You Are Still

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mild violence, a tiny bit of blood, but nothing too dangerous for this chapter.

When you look up, you see a troll. Four horns sit symmetrically in pairs on his head, one eye red and one eye blue under a pair of similarly-colored oval glasses. He wears a black jacket with the sign for Gemini all the way down the front colored in the yellow of his hemocaste, one stripe on the bottom hem and the other over the top of his chest.

You blink.

“Sollux, you’re back!” The blue human says. “Are Jade and Aradia with you?” 

The Gemini brushes past him, stopping to stand in front of you.

“Karkat?” He asks, his voice wavering.

You blink again.

“Do you two know each other?” The purple human asks.

“Of course we do,” the Gemini says, lisping slightly, and his oddly-colored eyes don't leave your face. “We were best friends when we were wrigglers. I know it’s him, we traded pictures only a couple weeks before he just stopped responding to my messages. I mean, he’s older, and…” He hesitates before continuing on. “Fuck, so _that’s_ why you always typed in gray. I always used to ask you about it but you’d always get so pissy and change the subject.”

He finally seems to take in the bandages around your neck. His tone is taut when he resumes. “What happened to him? Where did you find him?”

“A cell in the Condesce’s basement.”

“Oh.” The Gemini pales. “Shit.”

“I guess it’s a good thing we started off the rebellion when we did, then,” the red human says. “I don’t think he would have lasted much longer.”

You think someone starts to say something else, but at the word “rebellion”, alarm bells sound off in your head. Your vision flashes a vivid shade of pink before it goes black completely.

 

 

It’s to the feeling of psionics pinning you to the floor that you regain consciousness. The iron tang of blood fills your mouth and you realize that your lip is split. Red and blue energy crackles over your skin like an electric current and you’re suddenly aware that someone is shouting at you.

“What the fuck, KK!” The Gemini is almost screaming for how loud he’s shouting, and the psionics squeeze down almost painfully for a moment. “That wath a fucking killing blow! What'th wrong with you?!” The psionic is obviously upset, his lisp more pronounced. You don’t remember what you did wrong, but you know it must have been something, so you do what you’ve been trained to do.

You go limp, close your eyes, and bare your throat.

There’s a beat of silence from the Gemini, but after that his reaction is instantaneous.

He kicks you where you lay on the floor, psionics forgotten. “Fight back!” He screams between blows. “What the fuck are you waiting for KK?! Do thomething! _Fight back!_ ” You can’t stop yourself from curling in on yourself a little, but otherwise don’t move. If the Gemini wants to take his anger out on you this way then you should be grateful he didn’t decide to punish you in a worse way.

A brief moment flashes in your memory: gray irons heated red-hot, the smell of burning flesh - there and then gone again. But it was enough.

“Sollux.” The voice is quiet and calm, but it cuts through the Yellowblood’s now wordless screaming and he freezes. A troll steps into your field of vision, her horns spiraling out from long and thick curly hair, the sign for Aries in dark red over her chest. She lays a hand on the Gemini’s arm, and gently leads him out of the tent.

There are a few moments of silence before the purple human sits you up, checking for broken ribs. She stands when she finds none.

“There is something off about this,” she says, the red human’s face perfectly still and the blue human’s eyes blown wide. “I must go talk with Kanaya. Until then-” she glances down at you. “...Watch your words.” She leaves the tent, her steps hurried.

///

You don’t move from where you sit on the floor, and the two humans don’t talk to you much. It must be an hour later when you hear footsteps crunching through the grass in front of the tent.

“...different from you remember. Please be careful,” you hear the purple human say. A calm, careful voice responds.

“I will.”

The stranger is the first one to walk through the tent, two horns, one of them hooked, sitting atop a short bob of styled hair. The sign for Virgo sits in green on the waist of a black dress that seems to have been made specifically for her. Her jaw tightens when she sees you, but otherwise she keeps up a look of unflappable calm. She walks forward, each foot placed carefully in front of the other, and slowly crouches down in front of you. 

She seems to be searching for something in your face, probing you with Jade green eyes, and black-painted lips waver slightly.

“Karkat?”

You look down, breaking her gaze. Looking at her is making your head hurt.

“Karkat, do you remember me?” 

You shake your head, and the Virgo takes a deep breath.

“We were friends when we were younger,” she says, slowly. Like if she goes too fast something unnameable will break. “We met over Trollian. The last time I saw you was almost four sweeps ago. I was going into the city for some special fabric and you let me stay with you at your hive.” Your brow furrows as you try to remember her, because it looks like it would make her happy, but when you reach back into the fog of your life before your capture the only thing you find is a dull ache.

“I am going to try something,” she says. “Is that alright?” You nod. She didn’t need to ask. 

Her hand is cool when she rests it against your face, and she closes her eyes. Almost immediately, her breath hitches, and she jerks her hand away.

“Oh dear,” she says, but the pained look in her eyes reveal the wish to say something more descriptive. “This is- I can’t-” The purple human is at the Virgo’s side the instant jade-tinted tears begin to fall, resting a hand on her shoulder. The Virgo reaches back and squeezes, and swallows once before she continues. You can’t help but feel incredibly guilty. You don’t know why, but you get the feeling that she’s crying because of you.

“There has been damage done to his throat, physically, but his mind-” She breaks herself off, and wipes away her tears with a hand. “As a Sylph, I’m quite used to seeing and healing the hurts of others, but this is far too much for me to handle on my own. I barely touched him and already I am overwhelmed.” She seems to weigh something in her mind, then. “We need Feferi.”

“I guess the throat thing explains why he hasn’t said anything.” The red human adjusts the black glasses on his face. “Can you still talk?” You consider whether you should take this as an order to demonstrate, but so far he’s seemed more of the direct type. You nod once.

“Does it hurt to talk?” It hurts all the time, a constant bur in your throat; but that’s not what the blue human is asking. You nod again. He winces. “Ouch.”

All this time, the Virgo and the purple human have been looking at each other silently, as if having a silent conversation of their own. The purple human nods once.

“I’ll talk to Jade,” she says. “She’ll be able to contact her.”

“Thank you,” The Virgo whispers.

“In any case,” The purple human continues. “We should go intercept Gamzee before he tries to ‘improve’ tonight’s dinner.”

“Yes. I should probably tell him and the others, as well.” She glances down at you before following the purple human out of the tent.

“Dinner should be ready soon,” the blue human offers weakly. “Everyone should be here by then.”

For some reason that only serves to make you uneasy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yeah third chapter ! :D sorry for the shortness of it and botched-up pacing, but oh well. have some more worldbuilding:
> 
> magic is a thing in this au. so are class/aspects. I guess you could say they're one and the same, as in ones class/aspect determines which type of magic you can use. You can use more than one type of magic, such as Rose using her wands even though that wouldn't be her best area being a Seer, but there will be mixed results in terms of how well it goes, such as Rose with her wands. Think of it this way: your aspect determines what type of magic you can use best, and your class determines how you use it. So if we were to use let us say John as an example.
> 
> John uses Breath, which in one interpretation can be used literally as meaning "wind". So, wind magic. Heir = becomes, inherit, so one of his abilities is turning into/becoming the wind, as in canon. How aspects are used/what they mean differ person to person as often as they do in canon, as well as how powerful a person is. 
> 
> Any questions about this au are highly welcomed and encouraged!! :D (and thanks for the wonderful comments! ^_^)


	4. When You Are Seen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oW

“...remember me, and I met him in person. I doubt he remembers any of us.”

The blue human and the red human stop outside the tent to whisper to each other, and you stop as well. You’ll wait until you’re given permission to enter. For now, you listen to the sound of voices coming from inside the tent.

“You saw him first,” says a female troll, her voice precise and not just a little bit grating. “How was he with you, Mr Appleberry Blast?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Was it purreally that bad?”

“When I walked in, Sollux was kicking him on the floor.” You recognize the voice of the Aries, still calm, although she sounds slightly perturbed. “He just sat there and took it. He wasn’t even trying to fight back.”

“Rose thought that there might be something more behind this, and asked me to take a look.” This voice belongs to the Jadeblood. “It was rather… disturbing, to say the least, which is why I asked Jade to call for Feferi.”

“This is troubling,” goes the grating voice again. “If he was really taken as a slave under the Condesce then I should have heard of it before now!”

“Is it true,” says a deep, rumbling voice. “That Mr Vantas is indeed a mutant?”

“What do you care? Are you going to get all bloodist on us and say he got what he detherved?”

“Of course not! You know that that is a role which I only play when I am fulfilling the duties set out for me, Mr Captor; I am simply trying to be the voice of reason here is all. I have to ask-” 

“Don’t you dare thay it.”

“-Is this really worth the risk of taking the future Heiress out of hiding? For one mutated troll?”

“Equius!”

_“You-”_

“It’s true as any mother fuckin’ miracle.” The noise of the accumulating fight suddenly breaks off, and there are a few moments of silence.

“Gamzee, how-”

“He made some revelations to me not right before he all up and disappeared,” the voice continues, and for some reason it strikes a deep chord within you. You don’t know what to make of it, so you do nothing. “Saying how he didn’t know what to rightfully do about his situation, how he didn’t know how much longer he could keep it up. I should have gotten him the mother fuck OUT of that mother fucking place right that second, but my thinkpan was so rotted through with that unmiraculous SHIT that by the time the notion descended on me he was already up and gone.”

“But if you knew, then uh, why didn’t you say anything?”

“I mother fucking TRIED, but you all up and convinced yourselves that he was fine through your own LIES, and by the time you all got your worry on it was TOO FUCKING LATE.” 

More silence.

“We were all tho fucking thtupid.”

“Everyone who seconds that motion, say ‘I’.”

Several sounds of agreement follow.

You find yourself being suddenly ushered into the tent.

Several sets of eyes immediately lock on to you, and you look down into safe territory. The red and blue humans come in behind you, and they both sit down at a large brown, worn table. You find yourself at a sudden loss for what to do.

“Sit,” the red human says, pointing to the chair next to him, and you do. You’re between him and a Brownblood, if the color dyed into the tips of his hair and lining his jacket are any indication. He shifts in his chair nervously.

“Hi, Karkat,” says a troll across the table, shyly. The sign for Leo is painted in green on her face, circling one eye and curving around a cheek. You nod in return, still looking down, and a Tealblood a couple seats to your right leans over the table and sniffs loudly. Her smile is as sharp as her teeth, and something about it makes you think it’s forced. She adjust the bright red glasses on her face.

“Why, Karkles, you smell so different than your pictures!” When she laughs, a necklace with the sign for Libra catches the light.

“Hey, where’s Rose?” The red human asks.

“Yeah, and Jade,” says the blue human. “I haven’t seen her all day.”

“They both had some last minute business to attend to,” the Virgo says. “They should be back shortly.”

“Good,” the red human grunts. “The sooner they get back, the sooner we can eat. I’m fucking starving.”

“Yeah, you did so much today, DV,” the Gemini says, rolling his eyes. The red human nods.

“Preach it, reuniting long-lost friends is tiring as heck.”

“How did-” The Brownblood beside you blurts out, and he becomes suddenly embarrassed to find all the attention in the room directly on him, brown rising to his cheeks. “I mean. Um. The bandages. Why, uh, what happened to your neck?”

“Don’t even ask that question, man,” the red human says, propping his feet up on the table. Attention appears to have the opposite effect on him. “He had this collar on, we had to get Rose to take it off for us with her wands. He was bleeding all over the place afterward.”

“Oh. Uh,” The Brownblood fidgets, as if he doesn’t know what to do with this information now that he has it. “Sorry?”

“Whatever, it’s cool now.”

There’s a few moments of awkward silence, and you can’t help but feel like you’re the source of it. Are they waiting for you to do something? But you haven’t been given any orders.

“So how did it go today, Tavros?” The blue human says. “Didn’t you say you were going to check something about the animals nearby?”

“It went, um, well,” The Brownblood beside you says. “There were a lot more in my range, than I expected, and if I can get them to cooperate then they can probably be pretty uh, useful.”

“Ain’t that a miracle if I ever heard one, Tavbro.” You only get a glance of facepaint and a flash of purple before you force your gaze back down. “Ain’t it just.”

“Yeah, I guess. Uh. What about you? I didn’t see you, at all today.” The Indigoblood laughs a light, honking laugh.

“I just went up and secured us all some wicked mother fuckin’ elixir. Got enough for every brosis that has a mind to want some.” A collective groan sounds around the table.

“That shit has to be the shittiest, crappiest soda that has ever been created,” the red human says.

“It’s just so… _sugary_ ,” the blue human shudders. “I don’t know how you can drink the stuff!”

“Aw, but ain’t that the best part?” You see the Indigoblood turn to face you in your peripheral. “Don’t you up and agree with me, Karbro?” His voice is tense and strained, and you scold yourself silently. You must have missed something, and now he’s angry with you. Whatever you did wrong, he asked you a direct question, and you have no choice but to speak now. You swallow, and steel yourself for answering.

“Gamzee-”

“Yes, Master.” Your voice is the same pained whisper it’s been for sweeps now, but everyone falls silent as if it was a shout. The Leo makes a pained sound in the back of her throat. The Indigoblood growls, low and deep.

No, no you did something wrong again. It’s confusing, you can’t figure out what he wants and if you don’t piece it together soon you’ll be paying for it in blood, literally. For now, there’s only one thing you can think to do. You bare your neck to him.

He stands up suddenly, his already precariously-balanced chair toppling to the floor, and you can’t help but flinch. You’ve had experience with Indigobloods before, and you know firsthand how brutal they can be. 

“Motherfuck,” he says, all but wailing. “I’m gonna kill those MOTHER FUCKERS.” A heavy pair of Clubkind appears in his hands. “I will tear them LIMB from MOTHER FUCKING LIMB.” The Virgo stands and reaches up, tugging the Indigoblood down by one long horn. 

“I suppose it’s unconventional to Auspisticize between two parties when I would very much like to inflict pain among one of them myself, but Gamzee _now is not the time._ ” The Capricorn looks down at you as you finally register, shaking and hunched in on yourself in expectation of the blow.

“Mother _fuck_.” The Clubkind disappear instantly, and he doesn’t protest as the Jadeblood guides him out of the tent. You take a few shaky breaths, wondering why he stopped. The others in the room are looking everywhere but you, all except the Aries and the Libra. 

There’s an isolated flash of a bright, green light, and suddenly there’s a human girl standing where there wasn’t one before.

“Hi, guys!” She says cheerily. “What did I miss?”

///

Three days pass.

You stay mostly in the tent shared by the red and blue humans, and when people come to see you, it’s not for the reasons you expect.

The Libra, Virgo, and Leo visit you the most often. They must have adopted the human sleep cycle, because they usually visit during the day. They don’t do anything other than sit there and talk; no orders, just words. The Leo brings the Sagittarius with her once, but for some reason he’s extremely uncomfortable throughout the whole thing, and she doesn’t bring him again. The Gemini visits exactly twice before he runs out of things to say, and the Indigoblood stops by the tent once before he sees you tense up and he leaves. He doesn’t come back.

The purple human decided that your neck was healed enough to go without the bandages on the second day. Late in the third day, someone new arrives.

“Eridan, you’re here,” the purple human says, not too far from the tent.

“About fuckin’ time, too. I swear the journey here keeps gettin’ longer an’ longer.” That accent can only be from a Seadweller. 

“Feferi must not be far behind, I take it?”

“She’s about an hour back. Easier to stay hidden alone, and I figured I could scope everythin’ out.”

“Of course.” 

The opening to the tent is pushed aside and the purple human walks in, a troll following close behind. His horns fall back over his head in a jagged sweep, showing off a streak of purple in his hair. The sign for Aquarius zigzags proudly on the shoulders of a black naval jacket, two bands of Highblood purple sewed into the cuffs. You drop your gaze to his feet.

“Hell, it really is him,” The Purpleblood says, sounding something close to amused. It’s gone from his voice in an instant. “I heard what happened with Sol. Kar, look at me.” You do. His eyes are narrowed into purple slits, earfins flared wide and threatening. “If you so much as put a _scratch_ on Fef, I will fuckin’ _destroy you_ , you understand?” You nod twice, vigorously. His eyes widen in surprise, as if he wasn’t expecting to get his way so easily.. “Well,” he says. “Glad we could sort that out.” He clears his throat awkwardly. “Ros, do you have a place I could get ready for Fef? An’ it better be somethin’ good, not some dirty old peasant tent-” 

The purple human then does something you didn’t expect: she paps him twice softly on the cheek. The Purpleblood flushes, face tinting the purple of his caste. “Of course, dear,” the purple human says. “Right this way.”

A little while later, all the trolls and humans you’ve seen so far pile into the tent, the Purpleblood excluded. They’re oddly quiet, and the air is a strange mixed charge of anticipation and dread. A couple minutes later, the Purpleblood walks in.

“Remember what I said, Kar,” he warns, eyes narrow again, and you nod. 

All you see is a cascade of thick curly hair, horns rising tall in a dignified arch, and you bolt up. You’re not sure what you were planning to do - stumble back or fall forward at her feet, but before your body can decide the choice is taken from you. The electric thrum of psionics has you frozen in a second.

Fuchsia eyes regard you behind pink swimming goggles in a way that some might see as kind.

“Oh,” she says quietly. “You’re scared of me, aren’t you?” Her voice is light and airy, but underneath it you can hear the lilt of Her tenor. She takes a step forward. “It’s okay. I’m not like Her.” In another step she’s closed the distance between you. She reaches up and cups your cheek with a hand. You recognize the way she takes hold inside your mind instantly, but it feels different somehow. She closes her eyes in concentration.

“How could she _do this_ to you?” The Heiress says, sucking in a sharp breath of air between her teeth in what sounds like sympathy. She assures you through the link that it is, and the tendrils of her mind turn over memories gently. “This is horrayble! She just _barely_ left his vocal chords intact, no wonder he’s in pain.” The Indigoblood gives a low, distressed honk. “And his mind is…” She trails off, her brows furrowed, and makes a few thoughtful noises. Her presence in your mind is a mild, shifting pressure, and you realize why this feels so different; it’s like a headache without the pain.

“Oh, how _clever,_ ” she says viciously. “Block off his will, block off his memory - no wonder he doesn’t remember any of us, he couldn’t even if he wanted to. Now I have something else to krill her for.”

The pressure in your head balloons and you find a growl tearing itself painfully from your throat, unbidden. The Purpleblood steps up behind her, but stops the moment she shakes her head.

“She made hershellf a perfect little sleeper agent. Just a whisper against her or her Empire and… you minnow.” 

“Is it possible for you to undo the damage?” the purple human asks, somewhere off to your right. 

The Heiress straightens up and opens her eyes. “I can do it,” she says firmly. “Hold him still, please,” she says to the Gemini, and the psionics tighten their grip around you. “This might hurt a bit,” she says to you, her eyes pools of fuchsia. Her hand trails down to gently, gently, wrap around your neck.

White-hot power floods from her fingertips and you choke on it. The ache in your throat flares into a pain not unlike when it was first inflicted, and just when it’s about to become unbearable it subsides, a taste like cool water lingering in the back of your throat. You only have a moment to wonder at the lack of pain, so used to its presence that now that it’s gone the absence almost feels _wrong_ , before you feel something shift in your mind. 

Thoughts and ideas that you know with a sudden, strange, clarity were not your own crumble and dissolve into smoke. Others spill forward to take their place.

“Sollux.”

The psionics dissipate.

You take a step forward, numbly, and someone moves protectively in front of the H- _Feferi_. You push past them, out of the crowded tent and into the cool night, and you… keep going.

You don’t get far. You only manage a handful of shaky, lurching steps before you trip over your own feet, and you stumble onto your knees. You shiver in the cold, head bowed, and you just -- you scream.

It’s wordless, but in it is everything you’ve wanted to say and everything you’re not letting yourself feel. It’s the sum of every curse you were never allowed to voice, of every punch you wanted to throw and every no you wanted to protest and every single individual moment you wanted to _scream at the top of your lungs_ but couldn’t.

It leaves you feeling empty and small when it’s over, but damn does it feel good.

“Shoosh, bro.” A pair of arms wrap around your shoulders from behind. “I got you.” You twist around, burying your face into Gamzee’s chest and clutching fistfuls of his shirt, just breathing in the smell of him. He smells faintly of old spices and the sea, and you’re not entirely sure why you’re crying. His arms tighten around your shaking shoulders, and he buries his face in your hair. “I motherfuckin’ _got_ you.”

You don’t know how long you sit there, be it seconds, minutes, or hours, but the one thing you are sure of is, at some point, you fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it took me forever to write this chapter. do you want to know why? "yes master" THAT'S WHY. I am just such, _such_ a wimp when it comes to writing anything even REMOTELY sad. fuck my red gushy heart.
> 
> i'm willing to answer any questions about this 'verse although if it's plot-relevant i call the right of just going hehehehe >:3
> 
> just a notice; i don't have any plans set in stone when it comes to quadrants. there'll be various forms of romance here nd there but romance won't be the _focus_ of this fic, you nang?
> 
> (i'll always have time for gamkar though hehe)


	5. When You Are Thankful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's hard, being (mostly) clear-headed after three sweeps of being mind-raped by the most powerful psychic on the planet.
> 
> It's hard and you're not sure if even you understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh my god wow i took forever i'm so sorry

You wake calmly from dreams of your capture.

But you don’t want to think about that right now, so instead you content yourself with staring up at the roof of the tent, early sunlight filtering lazily through the off-white cloth. Gamzee clings to your left arm tightly even in his sleep, his gangly legs dangling almost entirely off the bed, and you can guess that he carried you here. No one else is around - not even the red or blue humans, Dave or John, for all this is their tent, you wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t come in at all - and you can’t help but be thankful. For some stupid reason that you can’t seem to specify and you don’t really care to, you feel a shade of embarrassed permeated into your deepest levels, and even though it’s childish and you know you’ll have to deal with the others eventually you’re not going to jump to put yourself in their presence at the moment. You’ll take this rare moment of peace while you can get it.

Gamzee mutters something unintelligible in his sleep, and you turn your head to look at him. He’s… grown, since you last saw him, really filled out over the sweeps and taller than ever. He’s not so thin and lanky anymore, and he didn’t sound as stoned as you remember, either, the noncommittal haziness to his voice gone. You wonder what else has changed.

Not his shitty taste in soft drink, obviously.

You huff lightly to yourself in amusement because let’s face it, the world could be burning in a giant ball of apocalyptic hell-fire and Gamzee would still be chugging that shit, when his eyes flicker open. Your heart stops at the deep shade of purple in his irises.

“Hey, best friend.” His smile is lazily but pulled taut with nerves at the edges, and immediately your blood-pusher resumes its normal rhythm in your chest. You push that reaction out of your mind because you are so done with that shit. “Is my main bro back to bein’ his usual shouty self?” Sort of a loaded question, but you give the answer you’d like the most to be true; you can’t help but smile a little when you nod, and you don’t miss the way his grip around your arm relaxes just slightly. His smile becomes a genuine one after that. “Ain’t that just the greatest miracle.” He’s silent for a moment, and then you have to repress the actual physical urge to smooth the crease that forms on his forehead with your thumb. “Why’d you not just say so? Do you need me to go call fishsis back for you-”

“No,” you say, and the lack of pain and effort it takes to say it is nice. Weird, but nice. You clear your throat, but you don’t doubt that the cracking in your voice isn’t going to stop for a while. Feferi may have managed to heal it, somehow, but apparently you’ll still have to deal with little things like that on your own. Even if you don’t technically _have_ to, you’re not going to bother her for little things like that. “No. I just forgot. Habit, I guess.” Fuck, oh shit why did you say that. The change is immediate the second the words leave your mouth: the smile on Gamzee’s face wavers and falls.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, and he hunches in on himself. His grip on your arm tightens and he looks down, like he can’t bring himself to look into your eyes, and you can feel him beginning to shake. “I’m so sorry, you told me all about you, you trusted to tell me all the motherfuck _about_ you and I fuckin’ _failed_ you, I let you down and let them take you from me and let them hurt you, I can see it in you and they hurt you down to your motherfucking _soul_ and there ain’t nothing I can do to make up for that. I went and stopped poisoning my thinkpan with sopor just like you always had a mind to tell me to and I saw all my mistakes laid out bright and clear like they’d never done before but it didn’t change a damn thing, I couldn’t find you even though you were right under my _motherfucking nose_ -”

Fuck it. You can’t help yourself anymore, not while he’s being such a wreck when if anybody you should be the one curled up and sobbing. Ignoring the whispers of _what do you think you’re doing_ nagging at the not-so-back of your mind, you bring your free hand up to Gamzee’s face and pap a cheek twice, softly.

“Shoosh.” It doesn’t sound as soothing as it should be, what with your voice jumping all over the place like it can’t decide what pitch to fall on after so long a time of neglect, but it still manages to break Gamzee out of his rant and into a stunned silence, finally looking back up at you. You wipe away the beginnings of a purple-tinted tear with your thumb and for a terrifying moment you are struck with the overwhelming feeling that _you are not worthy_ before you manage to squash it with the heel of a mental boot. It backfires a bit when the boot of choice turns out to be a pink heel, so you abandon that train of thought before you can be consumed by it entirely. “Pale for you,” you say, not letting yourself think over the words too much before they leave your mouth in case something keeps you from it. Gamzee’s eyes are wide with something you can’t identify, and when he brings up one long-boned hand you flinch without thinking, your addled thinkpan filling in blanks that it really has no right to.

(Making pale advances on a Highblood, an Indigoblood, no less - what do you think you’re doing, you’re not worth your weight in his spit let alone good enough to even think of yourself in one of his quadrants with your filthy blood, you deserve to be punished, you deserve more than to be hit, you think, hit me, hit me, _hit me_ \- )

(The fact that you’re no longer bound by those laws and that this is Gamzee we’re talking about here escapes your fucked-up brain entirely.)

Gamzee’s fingers interlock with yours where they still lay on his cheek, trapping them there, and his breath puffs warmly on the inside of your wrist. 

“I didn’t get to up and say it back the first time you told me,” he says carefully, slowly, each word weighted as if he’s been sitting on them for a long time. The words bring your last log with him to mind and you have no doubt that he has. His hand tightens on yours. “But I’m paler than a motherfucking diamond for you, Karbro.”

It takes you a exactly a second after he says that to realize that the emotion flooding his eyes that you couldn’t identify was pure, unadulterated joy. It takes you a fraction of a second longer to realize that you feel something resembling the same. The weight in your chest that you’ve been carrying for sweeps seems to lift and melt away. As far as pale declarations go, it’s pretty high up there on the scale of intimacy.

“Fucking hell,” you mutter, and this time it’s you who’s having a hard time of meeting the other’s eyes. “Don’t hold back or anything, I’m sure it won’t be embarrassing for either of us, least of all you, you oblivious assclown - no, don’t leave, why the fuck are you laughing?!”

Gamzee settles back from where he was starting to pull away slightly, huffing lightly with laughter. He brings your knuckles to his lips as his laughter increases in volume until he’s almost jumping off the bed from the force of it, lips brushing your knuckles light enough that you can feel the vibrations of his voice against the skin of your hand. It’s so blatantly, unforgivingly pale that you can’t help the heat that floods your face in waves.

“It’s just been,” he chuckles to the gaps between your fingers, “Too fucking long since I heard you curse up at me. Too motherfucking long.”

Something hits you, then, something that you really should have noticed before now. Your brows furrow as you peer at Gamzee’s face, your hand twitching against the cool skin of his lips. 

“Gamzee,” you say, and he blinks. “Where’s your paint?” He looks strange without his white facepaint, almost unrecognizable - and you can guess how; you’ve never seen him without it on before, not even when you’d been talking over the video option on Trollian at who-the-fuck-even-knows o’clock.

“Well,” he says, breathing softly into your hand, “You just seemed all sorts of twitchy whenever I came around, so I figured I’d keep the paint scarce if it kept you from being all scared-like.”

“You - you didn’t need to do that.” The look he gives you when you say that is completely shot through with pale affection; eyes soft, the corners of his mouth raised slightly.

“Don’t you worry none. It ain’t even a thing.”

You just lie there for a minute, both of you drawing comfort from each-other’s warmth, until you sigh heavily. Gamzee makes a noise of protest as you sit up until you pull him up after you.

“As much as I would love to drag this out forever,” you say, “I’m fucking starving. Where the fuck do you keep your food?” Gamzee laughs, ruffling your hair, and you glare half-heartedly at him.

“Why didn’t you up and say so sooner, Karbro?” He half picks you up until you’re standing steady, which you try to not be too much of an asshole about seeing as how you actually kind of need it. It helps that half of you instinctively wants to go limp when he grabs around your waist, so you just grumble quietly and hope that he gets the sentiment. He laughs again, so you think he does. He has a nice laugh. You forgot how much you missed it. “The food tent is right over this fuckin’ way.”

It takes a few moments for your eyes to adjust to the sunlight when you get outside, but when they do you make sure to take a good look around. You count six tents in total, besides the one you were just in, so seven in all, bleached off-white under the sun. And there’s… You think you might see another one, just over the crest of a gently sloping hill, but whatever it is it’s too far away for you to investigate now. Gamzee waits quietly while you take it all in, and starts loping to the right and past another tent when you look back at him. You realize why the way feels familiar to you when you remember it’s they way to the tent with the table you’d been to before. Gamzee walks in first. You steel yourself, and step in after him.

“You just sit tight,” Gamzee says from somewhere you can’t see in the back of the tent. “I’ll be out in the shortest motherfuckin’ minute!” You roll your eyes, and then freeze when you see someone sitting at the far end of the table. You recognize Sollux immediately, hunched over as he is, and he’s looking at you with a faintly nervous expression on his face. You blow out air through your nose and begin to walk over to him. He stands up hurriedly with his hands brushing at the waist of his coat, and you stop when you’re a foot or so apart. You both look at each-other awkwardly for a few moments.

You know what he’s expecting; what you would have done, before. He’s waiting for you to punch him, or to tell him off for what he did to you. Something loud, at least, something angry.

(They didn’t like it when you were-)

“Hey.” You flick him with a finger on the shoulder. “Sit the fuck down, moron.” He laughs lightly under his breath and settles back into his chair, and you sit in the chair next to him. He almost seems, though… Either relieved, or disappointed, you can’t tell which. Idiot. “Why do you still have those stupid glasses?”

“Hey, fuck you, these glasses are badass,” he says, but he’s smiling slightly, so you know he knows you didn’t mean it. You try to read what it says on the papers scattered on the table in front of him, but it’s all upside down from your point of view and it’s already in Sollux’s nearly illegible cluckbeast-scratch. When you look back up at him, one eyebrow raised, you see him wearing much of the same expression. “What’s this supposed to be?” you ask, waving a hand at the papers.

“Just tallying up our resources,” he says dismissively, taking up a pen back in his hand. “Seeing how much we have left and what we need to get and shit. It’s boring as fuck, but it doesn’t do itself.”

Resources? Resources for _what_? You open your mouth to ask that question when suddenly a loud bang sounds from the direction Gamzee disappeared to, followed by the sound of several heavy things falling over in rapid succession. There’s a muffled “Motherfucker!” and then all is silent again. You look back at Sollux, who looks completely unconcerned, as if this is business as usual and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with what you both just heard.

“Tell me the truth,” you say. “How terrified should I be?” But Sollux doesn’t answer. He just smirks, like he knows something you don’t, and honestly you’re not even angry with him for it. You’ve truly fallen far if you’ve missed even Sollux’s insufferable smugness, the same smarter-than-you smile you used to be vaguely black for him for. But then again, you already knew that, didn’t you? You’ve long gotten past your immature habit of denying your own feelings to yourself (She didn’t let you) so you know _exactly_ how different you are from the troll you used to be, for better or for worse. Mostly worse.

Well. At least you’re not black for Sollux fucking Captor anymore. What was past you even _thinking_? 

You don’t get much longer to contemplate it, because Gamzee comes back with a bowl in his hands. It’s steaming faintly, and you eye both it and him warily as he places it in front of you. You get a glimpse of color as he does, and grab his hand before he can pull it away. You didn’t notice before, but Gamzee’s nails have been painted alternating colors of indigo and brown. 

“When the hell did _that_ happen, and what quadrant?” You ask, letting go of his hand. He holds it out in front of him and looks at it with a fond, almost disbelieving smile.

“Tavbro and I have been as red as red can be for each other a while now. Made it official just last sweep.” Tavros and Gamzee? Flushed? You wonder how that happened.

“Congratulations, man.”

“It’s sickening,” Sollux says. “They make goo-goo eyes at each other practically every second they’re in the same room. And stop stalling, KK.” You glare at him, his grin raised at one corner and just the way you remember it. “Just try it already.”

“Yeah, bro, don’t be all hurting my feelings.” 

You pick the bowl up in your hands with due caution, and the soup inside sloshes. It doesn’t smell bad. It doesn’t _look_ bad, but Gamzee’s described some of the things he’d made for himself before over Trollian and you still honestly don’t know how he managed to survive like he did. So, yeah, you were fucking stalling. But, if you’re going to be honest, you’re a little too hungry to really turn anything down right now, either. You spent a long time in that cell.

You take a sip of the soup, and then almost spit it back out. “Holy _shit_ ,” you yell. “You _made_ this?!” Sollux is laughing in his chair, but Gamzee is just smiling at you knowingly. “Where the fuck have you been all my life?”

“Same place where I’ve always been, brother,” he says, while you’re busy sucking the soup down. “I’ve been where I have a mind to be.” And you probably shouldn’t be eating this so fast but fuck, you’re _hungry_. You honestly can’t remember the last time you had a decent meal and definitely not the last time you had one this good.

“Alright,” you say, putting the empty bowl back down. “I now declare that Gamzee is the only one allowed to cook, ever.”

“Nah, bro, I ain’t really all that great. I just do what up and makes sense, you know?” But he takes the bowl, beaming, and heads back to get hopefully more soup. Sollux is still snickering, the asshole, and you wait until Gamzee is completely out of sight to ask the question that’s been burning in your mind since you woke up.

“So,” you start, “I distinctly remember someone saying the word ‘rebellion’-” (traitors all of them protect Her kill them _**KILL THEM**_ ) “-so if you would explain what that’s all about, that would be great.” Sollux sobers up considerably at that, measuring you with a carefully blank look. You can only guess that he’s trying to assess how much of a threat you might be. How much he should tell you. You’ve been gone a long time, after all. He opens his mouth to speak, but before you can hear what he has to say, another voice interrupts from the entrance of the tent.

“Glad you asked, Kar.” You turn to see Eridan Ampora standing just inside the tent, the professional, almost grim look on his face contradicting his words. “We all just didn’t like the way Condesce was runnin’ things. Turned out a lot a’ people agreed with us an’ before we knew it we were spearheadin’ the whole thing.”

“We started off small,” Sollux breaks in, and a brief look of irritation passes over Eridan’s face. “Nothing to draw any attention that we couldn’t handle yet. Once we had the means, we started thinking bigger. Convincing Loyalist leaders of the smaller towns to step down and replacing them with our own.”

“A’ course, we didn’t stick to the small towns for long.” Eridan pulls out a chair and sits in one smooth motion, legs crossed as he leans forward to continue speaking, and you relax a little. Curse you for tensing up in the first place. “As more an’ more people started sympathizin’ with us, we were able to go further an’ further into the Empire’s territory. And it wasn’t just trolls that were willin’ to help, either. Apparently the humans were startin’ to get fed up with the way Condesce was enroachin’ on the human side of things.”

“If we hadn’t started forcing the change when we did, the tension probably would have sparked a full-scale war between our species.”

“And wouldn’t that have been a disaster,” you say, but only just barely enough to be heard, despite yourself; your throat is choked up in a way you don’t exactly like. If (the Purpleblood, Violetblood, Royalblood Seadweller Better Than You Bow Down On Your Knees) Eridan was standing there long enough to realize you’d been speaking much louder only moments earlier, he doesn’t seem to realize the significance of your sudden quietness. If Sollux does, you don’t know. You’re too busy making yourself look directly at Eridan to gauge Sollux’s reaction in any way. 

Eridan laughs, voice lighter more from what you’re guessing is relief at you having spoken at all than you actually being funny in any way.

“So you explained how this all started,” you continue, stubbornly refusing to let the low whining in your head quiet your voice even further, “but what parts do you all play in this?”

“We basically run this whole shit-show.” Sollux gathers the papers in front of him in his hands, lining them together and tapping the bottom of them against the table in a pointed manner. “We were mostly scattered around to cover as wide an area as we could. Cover our bases and all that. We switched around jobs a lot. One day I would be scouting out new recruits and the next I would be spying on our enemies. It depended on what we needed most at the time.”

“What about Vriska?” You ask, running through the faces you’d seen in the past couple days and realizing that she hadn’t been among them.

“What, VK? She’s been the one out at sea making sure that everyone’s doing what they’re supposed to out there. In a dramatic and needlessly showy way, obviously, but at least she’s on our side.”

“And a’ course it wouldn’t do to just wave around the Heiress under Condesce’s nose,” Eridan intercepts. “We got Fef into hidin’ first thing and I went with her to keep her safe.”

“Is she still here?” Eridan shakes his head before you’ve even finished asking the question.

“It’s not smart for her to stay in one place too long. She left last night. Asked me to stay until I was sure you’re okay. I should probably be headin’ out now that that’s taken care of.” He raps his knuckles against the table once before standing up, brushing imaginary lint off of his naval jacket.

“Don’t go all being a motherfucking stranger, now.” You jump at the voice right behind you, holy _fuck_ you didn’t hear Gamzee coming back. 

“I try not to,” Eridan snorts. “You know that, Gam. Sol.” He sneers at Sollux, and Sollux sneers right back. You wonder, as your heart resumes its normal rhythm back in your chest, if something’s going on there. Huh. “It was nice seein’ you again, Kar,” Eridan says, sounding a lot more sincere than he had with Sollux. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too, fishface.” Even though the insult almost seems to burn like acid in your mouth as you say it - for all that it’s not even much of an insult - you know you did right when Eridan’s lips quirk up at the edges. “Now get a move on before we die of old age.”

“Geeze, Kar, pushy as ever,” he grins, and with a wave he ducks out of the tent.

“He doesn’t come ‘round near often enough,” Gamzee says, still behind you. “But a brother can get his understanding on about what a fishbro’s priorities need be.” He sets down another bowl in front of you, not nearly as full as the previous one was, but you guess it’s for the best. It probably wouldn’t be good for you to chuck everything up because you ate too much too fast. That would just be fucking embarrassing. “How’s my best bro doing?”

“What? I’m fine.” But as you bring your arms up to reach for the bowl you realize how wound tight you still were, dense yellow nails digging hard enough into your skin that they almost drawn blood. Gamzee narrows his eyes almost imperceptibly and you knows he can tell you’re lying, or at least not telling the whole truth. He grew sharper since you were gone, then. You suppose that’s good. But now’s not the time to talk about that, not when Sollux is right fucking here. You’ll tell him what he wants to know when you’re alone later, and you hope he gets the message when you shake your head as minimally as possible. You think he does, if the way his face relaxes back into its normal chill expression is any indication as he leans on the back of your chair.

“So,” you say, after a forcedly slow drag of the fucking miraculous broth from the bowl, ignoring Sollux’s singular raised eyebrow, “what’s with the humans?”

“Like I said before, humans were pretty supportive of the whole movement, too.” Sollux shrugs. “The Condesce was starting to buy out human companies, taking over trade. Before much longer she would have been the singular owner of every single major market, and it wouldn’t take long for her to buy out the smaller ones. After that, who knows what she was planning on doing.”

(you know nothing it’s not yours to share SHE TRUSTED YOU)

“Genocide,” you say simply, and it’s your turn to shrug when Sollux gives you a blank look. “Or mass slavery. Once she made sure there was no one else anyone could get produce from, she was going to start poisoning it, something that could only affect human biology and at such a slow rate no one would even suspect anything at first. Once everyone was too weak to do anything about it she figured it’d be easy to just reach out and take everything over. From there on out they’d be an easy source of slaves, and if the work killed them quicker at least they breed like fucking hopbeasts.”

The silence as you stop talking is almost oppressive. You wonder if you did something wrong and then jump off that train of thought so fast you can almost feel your digestive sac a hundred feet behind you.

“Right.” Sollux’s eyebrows are scrunched together behind his glasses, probably factoring in the new information and seeing if it fits with what he knows. It’s what you would do. “And you know this how?”

You shrug again, a bit more helplessly this time. “She was in my head. She didn’t think I was going anywhere and she liked to brag.” The chair creaks under Gamzee’s hand as he tightens his grip on the wood under his fingertips. You glance up at him, but he doesn’t look like he’s about to immediately about to go into the type of rage you unknowingly set him off on during your first night back - just tight-mouthed with fury. You keep your senses open, though, in case you need to intervene with a stern shoosh-pap, but you decide to change the subject just in case. “You were saying, about the humans.”

Sollux seems to get it, at least, although he complies only reluctantly. “Since I just explained it to you, I’m guessing you’re asking about the ones here. We have four of them with us, personally. John, Jade, Dave, and Rose. They’re kind of especially caught up in the whole affair. All of their guardians were assassinated by the Condesce for going against her in some way or another. Probably would have started a revolution of their own had the Condesce left them alone, which is probably why she had them killed in the first place. The kids want revenge, and this is the best way we can give it to them.” You nod. That makes sense, you guess

“KK. What else do you know?” The tone is awkward when Sollux asks it, like he really doesn’t want to broach the subject, but the firm line of his mouth is only business. You know he’s only asking because it would be stupid for him not to, when you might be a treasure-trove of Imperial secrets. 

The Condesce favored you, after all.

youre mine now little crab you aint never goin nowhere

(head killing you she’s in your head in your head GET HER OUT _GET OUT_ )

my PR-ECIOUS little PLAYT)(ING

(YOU TOOK EVERYTHING ELSE just leave me this LEAVE ME THIS)

and im not lettin you go for anyfin

(KILL ME PLEASE JUST KILL ME)

efin if i hafta tear all your little fronds LIMB from LIMB

(LEAVE THEM ALONE DON’T TOUCH THEM _ANYTHING BUT THEM_ )

38)

You wish very deeply that she hadn’t.

“Nothing.” There are small tremors running down your arms and settling into a deep ache in your wrists, and you rub at them to try and get them to stop. Your voice is surprisingly even as terror shoots its way down your spine and wraps its arms to squeeze around your bloodpusher at the memory. The first of many. “Nothing you need to know about.”

Your voice is perfectly calm as you draw in breath after even breath in the silence, but the pants-shitting terror you feel at how easy it was for you to get away spreads like cold lead in your veins and fingertips inching over your skin. She told you over and over again she’s never going to let you go, you’re never going to escape if she had to kill you first, you were going to live out the rest of your disgusting life in her service and yet here you are, as easy to get to like a fucking present dropped at the door of someone’s hive and she’s probably after you now (after your friends after all of them they’re going to die because of you Gamzee Nepeta Sollux Terezi Eridan FeferiTavrosVriskaNepetaEquiusKanayaAradia they’re going to die they’re going to be slaughtered) she’s going to kill them _you lead her to them you lead her right to them you killed them oh God-_

Highblood-cold knuckles rub soothingly at the blistering skin at the back of your neck.

“Shoosh, bro.” You’re dizzy, lightheaded as Gamzee’s voice rings in your ears, and you realize it’s because you’ve forgotten to breathe. Your lungs ache in relief as you suck in one breath, and then another. “That’s it, just let that oxygen flow, breathe. Shhhh, it’s alright. We’re not gettin’ any notions in our heads to go anywhere we don’t got us a mind to be, ya dig? We’re stayin’ right the motherfuck here.”

_Yeah,_ you want to say, _and that’s what I’m worried about, you grubfucking braindead wreck, I’m worried you’re going to stay here and she’ll find you,_ you want to say it but you can’t even try to speak right now. The thought of trying is beyond you, it’s just so inconceivable that you could almost forget you can talk again in the first place if it weren’t for the fact that you’re not letting yourself forget a single moment of this whole entire thing.

You don’t know how he knows that’s exactly what you’re thinking, how he hit it right on the nail. It would strike you as downright creepy most times but right now all you can do is let the cool hand at the back of your neck ground you and keep you from floating away.

And you are so fucking _selfish_ you could be _sick._

Because even if this is all you get, you can’t help but be thankful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we finally get to learn a little about what's really going on in the outside world.
> 
> HEADCANON (FIC-CANON?!) TIME: trolls paint their nails the color of their quadrants so that other trolls know there's someone out there who will fuck their shit up if they fuck that particular troll's shit up. Am I going to be using this extensively? We shall see. (Yes. Yes I will and it will be cute.)
> 
>  
> 
> oh my god. i love you all. i'm so sorry this took so long. i'm gonna take this time to say that i'm not sure when i'll finish the next chapter, probably not for a little while, BUT I AM NOT AND (MOST LIKELY) WILL NOT BE ABANDONING THIS so rest your pretty little heads and sleep tight. Any questions/comments welcomed with open arms!

**Author's Note:**

> Yooo! I would like to bring to your attention some sort-of [fanart](http://exaltedgalaxies.tumblr.com/post/68953091349) by exaltedgalaxies! It's the first of it's kind in that i've never gotten fanart before so you can imaging my enthusiasm when i say GO CHECK IT OUT!!! :D


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